


Five

by tomioneer



Series: Slave to Writing Prompts [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Ficlets, M/M, Tumblr Memes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2709413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomioneer/pseuds/tomioneer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As per a tumblr writing meme, Tim Drake plus five other characters in a series of should-be stand-alone ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roy Harper-Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Roy Harper, Apocalypse Fic

“I--” he starts, cuts off. Breathes. “I didn’t expect it to go like this, you know?”

The hero standing next to him sits down on the hill, tips himself over so his shoulder is against Tim’s and crosses his arms on drawn-up knees. Sitting on the Red Robin cape, which is spread out under him, no longer needed now. Like the cowl. “I know.”

He’s babbling. He’s been babbling for the last hour and--and Tim is pretty sure he’s said this exact same thing about three other times already. Red Arrow’s answers haven’t changed, or at least it sounds like they haven’t. “I’m the last person I thought they’d save. I--I feel so bad for that but I’ve always been the one to lay down on the wire and let the other guys crawl over me. And they always have. Not in any mean way, more like they just didn’t realize they were walking all over me.”

“I think I would have just cut the wire.” A pause. “There’s always a way out.”

“I know that,” Tim murmurs. “I know that, now. But I didn’t expect Dick, Jason... didn’t expect Bruce to send me a ahead with a lie. Just to get me out. I guess I was too distracted to notice. He usually can’t lie to me that well.”

A gloved hand rises, wraps around Tim’s where he’s digging his fingers into the grass and dirt.

“Do I have to become Batman, now?” he whispers, and leans hard on Roy Harper, turning his face against the other man’s shoulder. The suit smells like ash and copper. The quiver on his back is a little over half-full, the one between their hips almost empty. “Batman is--Gotham needs a Batman, always.”

“Kid,” Roy says, and his hand tightens, long fingers pushing Tim’s apart and curling down to his palm. “There isn’t any Gotham now.”

 

 


	2. Dick Grayson-Circus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dick Grayson, Circus AU
> 
> This one might get expanded, it was more fun than I thought.

“You’re Dick Grayson,” a voice says behind him, and he turns.

“Yeah, I am. And you are...?” He lifts a brow at the kid, a skinny teenager in his upper years, probably seven- or eighteen. With dark hair hanging his in his eyes and loose clothes, two straps of a backpack hooked over one shoulder, he’s the perfect picture of a runaway. Dick has seen the type before. He’s taught the type, guided them into adulthood even before he was an adult himself.

“I don’t think my name matters all that much,” the boy says, and he and Dick speak at the same time.

“I want to join the circus.” 

“You want to join the circus.”

Rather than looking bewildered like many people are when Dick reads them so well, the kid quirks a smile. It’s a nice smile, but out of practice. He’ll need to polish that up if he wants to be a showman. Putting his hand flat on Zitka’s trunk, Dick bends back down and swirls the scrub brush back into the soapy water. “What can you do, kid?”

“I can fly,” the boy tells him, shifting closer. “And I can fall. Animals like me.” To demonstrate, he holds out a hand. Much to Dick’s bemusement, Zitka turns her head from his familiar attentions and stretches out to shake the stranger's hand with her trunk. The boy smiles again, wider. It’s a cute smile this time. A _really_ nice one Dick can't help but see potential in. “I know how to plan and organize. I can draw and sing and I’m a polyglot. I’m flexible, and I’m not afraid of anything anymore.”

“Why not?” he asks, because the ‘anymore’ means he used to be a little more normal than this, and this sort of informal interview (Dick’s become a total pro since reaching majority and taking over most of the Circus) allows for rude, demanding questions like that.

“I watched my dad get killed,” he says simply, dropping his hand and stepping in. Zitka takes a step closer as well, lowering her massive head over the boy’s, wrapping ehr trunk around him and pulling him in against her shoulder for a hug that it fully returned despite her being wet and muddy. The kid is willing to get dirty, and that can only be a good thing.

“Me too,” Dick murmurs, and is startled when the boy says--

“I know. I was there.”

It’s surprising because the boy is quite a bit younger than him. Dick was traumatized enough at twelve, he doesn't want to know what sort of horrible after-effects watching the Flying Graysons fall to their deaths would have on a four year old. “Kid, so was half of Gotham.”

“True,” the boy acknowledges, and gently extricates himself from the elephant’s embrace. Reaching way up, he pats her wide cheek and smiles. “Do you remember me, girl? We only met for a few minutes. You and I, too,” he adds, glancing at Dick. “When I was little, just before the show You promised me a quadruple somersault.”

Dick blinks and tries to recall, but the only thing he really remembers about that night is death and blood and loneliness. “Sorry, but I don’t.”

“That’s okay,” is the easy response. “Anyway, I don’t really have anywhere to go. And I’ve always loved the circus.”

“Then you should do fine,” Dick says, and holds out his hand. The kid takes it and shakes, grip strong. His eyes are blue and piercing, a shade Dick thinks he might just remember after all. “Welcome to Haly’s. Provisionally.”

“Thanks.”

 

 


	3. Princess Koriand'r-Amnesia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Princess Koriand'r, Amnesia Fic. New 52-verse.

“She doesn’t remember,” Jason warns him, voice low and serious. Pushes a gloved hand through his hair, mindless of the way it scrapes away some of the dried blood on his brow. “Anything about any of us. The rest of the team, she still... recognizes. And she remembers more now about her old friends than in the last couple years. But us...”

His hand is hard on Tim’s shoulder, his eyes penetrating every mask Tim has.

“She doesn’t remember _us_. She won’t remember you, baby bird.”

“But,” he murmurs, glancing over at Starfire. She stands tall and proud, relaxed as she laughs with Cassie, barely aware of Roy hovering a few feet behind her, obviously worried. Tim can relate; he’s so concerned it’s making him nauseous. “But that’s not right. That isn’t how her mind _works_.”

Jason shrugs. “She lied to us. Is that really such a surprise? I mean, how much has she ever told you about her past, anyway? Most of what Harper and I know, we found out only after we were all stuck in space fighting for her planet.”

“I...” He wants to say Kori tells him everything, that she trusts him. Wants to tell his brother to shut up, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Instead what he says is, “Is she alright? She seems... happier.”

And she does, it’s plain to see just looking at the woman. Her smile is quicker, her gestures more casual. Laughter comes easily and sounds more sincere than he thinks he’s ever heard it. Loud and joyful, rolling laughter.

“She thinks she’s still with Dick,” Jason answers. “She was asking about him earlier, acting like a puppy.” Tim turns on his heel and walks away. His brother jogs after. “Hey, where are you going?”

“To find our brother,” he says.

“Red...”

“He’s alive, Jason. I know he is.”

A hand grabs his arm, spins him around. “Tim, this isn’t like that time with Bruce. We _saw_ the body. You helped lower him into the ground.”

“It wasn’t him.”

“Timothy--”

He punches Jason, hears the shocked outcry from their gathered friends. Shaking his fist out, Tim sneers. “I thought you guys had learned your lesson last time. You _know_ what happens when people accuse me of lying, Red. It doesn’t _end_ well for them. I saw the body, yeah. I saw it before the suit was put on, and I know it didn’t have some of the scars our brother does. Considering everything else that was going on at the time, I’d say the man we buried was a parallel version of Dick Grayson. Maybe he deserved a hero’s funeral and maybe he didn’t, I can’t say for sure. But _our brother_ is alive somewhere, no doubt working his ass off for Batman.

“Now you can help me find him, or you can live in stubborn ignorance. Which do you choose?”

“Why _bother_?” Jason demands hotly, getting into his face. Tim straightens his shoulder, refusing to back down. Besides, Tim’s about ninety percent sure most of Jason’s anger is actually pain at the loss of his friend and their brother’s betrayal. “If he is alive, you’ve been perfectly content to leave him alone. Why go looking for him now?”

“Kori wants to see him,” he answers shortly.

“Dammit, Red, she’s _your_ girlfriend!”

“Not if she doesn’t remember it,” Tim counters, shoving aside the painful twinge in his chest. “And I love her enough to make sure she gets what she wants. If she wants Nightwing, by god I will _find him_ for her.”

 


End file.
